Blatant exhibitionism.

A Jar Full of Eyes


This week I have been lucky,
I paid for everything I found,
and although free beer tastes good,
It's better earned.

When sound doesn't mean anything,
I find silence invigorating,
A new view of my current reality,
Wraps around me.

I'm laying awake. Too early.
Everything is quiet and still,
Two birds sing,
And in an electric tête-à-tête ,
Start my day.

Or perhaps I will go back to sleep?
Where a dusty shopkeeper,
Pays me for a jar full,
Of eyes.




Cosmic 2015 © All rights reserved.

Two Reasons

Art v Knowledge.

Knowledge can be destructive. Knowledge can never be taken away, removed. This makes it a weak force.  Art (creativity) is so powerful that it can destroy itself, if it needs to, and start again.

We owe a lot to creativity. For generations we have valued knowledge above it. 

You need knowledge too, obviously. But knowledge needs you more! Without somebody knowing it, knowledge doesn't exist. Without somebody doing it, creativity will carry on regardless. In one form or another.

© Cosmic 2013

I can't wake up

I can't wake up!
Can someone please
Shake me
And don't stop until
You wake me.
Don't be soft
You won't break me.
I just have to open my eyes
And see ahead.
It will surprise me
If I'm dead.

I need to wake up!
Can you find my number
And call me.
Stop fooling around.
I need the sound.
I can't feel the ground.
All around me.

I want to wake up!
I need to remember
My name.
To make sure my
Face hasn't changed.
And just to be certain
I'll lift up these curtains
And walk though the crowd
Once again.

I can't wake up!
Or was waking just
Falling to sleep?
Finding new ways to dream
But inside where we gleam,
Jewels are unseen.
And all that lies between
We can keep.


© Cosmic 2012

Poetry and Motion

When you've got a lot on
demands are strong

it's easy to go past 

your stop and continue

chugging away

relentlessly...

Screaming away like a mad fool!

Look at you there

Screeching, and wailing

As you charge round and round

on your tracks.

You're not a machine!

You're more like an organic bean,

And Braveheart was not just a film,

And Hitler was defeated for a reason!

The travels are best 

When you take in the view.

So take some time

To do what you did do

before the journey began

and the robot was born

and the calm gave way

to the storm.

Just take something 

small

right through to the end,

then everything else

won't

drive you

round 

the bend.

©Cosmic 2012 


Picture

From my desk

There is a quiet noise,
A silence I can hear.
Is it the sound of
Nothing-ever-happens,
Buzzing in my ears?

Gentle and sweet air,
That comes in from the sea,
Greets me and beckons,
All to share.

Birds chatter and tweet,
A most silvery silk and slip,
To where they fly is light,
and call each one,
every other one does.

From where I sit,
Here at my desk,
Typing click and clatters,
and outside cold
falls on my skin.


© Cosmic 2011

Teeth of Perception

Teeth of Perception

Teeth are doors
which slam on our food
and chew it.

More people have teeth than parrots,
More parrots have people than teeth.
More people have teeth than parrots,
More parrots have people than teeth.

I'm quite sure that I will find
A new way of looking at life,
through drawing teeth.

Soul of ever more hardy earth,
Man has blood, bones and teeth.

More people have teeth than parrots,
More parrots have people than teeth.
More people have teeth than parrots,
More parrots have people than teeth.

Give in to your teeth..
Life bites.
Teeth are where it's at.

Spoken: If the teeth of perception were cleansed
Everything would appear to man as it is,
Minty.

©Cosmic 2011

Fly away

Fly away

Climb through the clouds
I'm taking you out
Up, up and away
Lets fly away

Climb to the sun
Take the staircase and run
It's holiday time
Lets fly away

Climb to the moon
There's a lift due at noon
I'm dreaming you're here
Lets fly away

Climb up to space
and show Venus your face
stars twinkle all day
Lets fly away

©Cosmic 2011

Feelings Man

Feelings Man

Bitchin rain,
Pitching down on my head
the harder it falls
the harder it falls

Feelings Man sits and cries
Nobody asks him why
Feelings man just sees all day
But no one looks his way

Feelings man hears sounds of nature
Calling him in the cold cold night
But nobody listens to feelings man
They just keep getting on by...
he says

Chorus:
Don't fear the end isn't near
Just get by with each other
In a hundred years we'll all be gone
Just get on with each other

He stopped his car
A hill at his feet
He climbed onto the roof and sang out
to the city and dogs in the street

His heart grew heavy
It started to rain
and feeings Man sang
to the city again

But this time he sang louder
so more people heard
and the more that he sang
the less they all feared

Chorus:
Don't cry the end aint nigh
Just get by with your brother
Two thousand years is nothing at all
Just get on with each other

©Cosmic 2011

Maiya

Maiya

intro

Chorus:
Maiya calls out, shes too far away
ill never find her
Maiya why are we here?
why are we here at all?
Maiya shes too close to believe you
you'll never meet her
Maiya turn around
why are we here at all?

nothing makes sense but in open air busses
and mystery tours visit ruins all day

the guest house madam shows movies
to truckers who pay for food
then drive away

Chorus:
Solo:
Chorus:

small town fall town
the blues has my stall pitched
it's business unusual once more
for the first time today

two beggars sat watching
the groupies who left
in Bentleys, they swapped
for bottles of rum

they cackle and reel and find
something to steal
to harbor the pain
til the storm passes by

Chorusx2

outro

© Cosmic 2011

Suit

Where is my suit?
I wore it last year.
Anniversary of the
First year's bursary.

Description: Cold.
Taste: Fresh.
Movement: Lucid

I can't tell if I
Meant it
or dreamt it.

But when I got here,
I put the kettle on,
Ate and drank,
And stayed for Tea.


© Cosmic 2011

awesun

sun, hitting my eyes,

too many hot things,

need water and ice,

grass trees birds and bees,

no surprises thanks,

just leave me be.

Where do all the good times go?

Summer hasn't been like this since...

good weather for english festivals,

sitting on the grass, outside,

with each other, being.

Music in my ears,

salt water in my nose and eyes,

no surprises please,

just leave me be.

Water and air smell sweet,

i have sand in my hair,

and under my feet.

A river flows by my seat,

and under my chair,

Carrying my cares to wherever.

© Cosmic 2010

Aboard

Here I am typing a poem

With some words about being

tired,

Hot pangs as waves of thought

ebb and emerge from my

Toiled shell station

Embarking on a journey

Without checking the weather

or taking a coat.

The last passengers of thought for the day

Who wish to travel further than the

Jar-like confides of my skull,

Making some mark on the outside world,

Choosing a path,

and cutting their teeth,

Commute the first and final time

to their new jobs where they will labour

without complaint in the faint echo

of morning.

Hardly a hustle and bustle but more,

Like a slow gathering on the move.

And happy to be moving,

enjoying the view,

and the rocking motion of the train,

of thought.

© Cosmic 2010

Portobello Road

Steel drums on a traffic island,

and flowers sold in the van,

On the Corner.

At the market the antiques',

sellers accent is genuine and priceless!

His words alerts my ears and

I get his sales technique

and energy.

Japanese photos from 1830s

"Forty pound each!"

and poetry books.

Busy stalls, lots of energy!

Man with dreadlocks shouts

with f-words about how..

"The fucking car don't work!"

and how.. "The fucking white car don't work!"

In Rough Trade the signed MC5 poster

sits by Debbie Harry's,

and the tattered Ramones one above the door,

is the ultimate doorway decoration.

Records I had never seen or heard of,

with some I had never seen in, person and

sold back to back in a,

matter-of-fact "We've got it" way.

Running short of time,

My train will leave either way.

So I leave the Portobello Road and

re-trace my steps and get my bags,

from the hotel apartment.

©Cosmic2010

im not a word

if i could be spelt like a name

i would be a word

my name is a word and can be spelt

i can change it

it is a word

i am not my name

i am not a word

i am separate

i am not spelt

i will not fit in a sentence

i will not be a noun

or a verb

i will not be better used

to describe something

or shortened to make another word

i am in no way a word

if you read me over

and over

and over again

i will not lose my meaning

and i will paint a thousand pictures.

Cosmic ©2009 All Rights Reserved

train of thought

train of thought

rolling rolling gentle words thunder and clatter from the nowhere past the square pastures and concrete pots and concrete pots and concrete pots out into the inn a warm temperate chill or more pudding cricketers and morris dancers beware of storm clouds and seasons play on, well play, well played well played then.. see you next season cheers!! cheers!! cheers!!

Cosmic ©2009 All Rights Reserved